Bonds
by Enkei Reiton
Summary: After the war, Aizen still looms above and Ichigo and Rukia struggle to return to their normal lives while hollows and other entities come at them from all sides. Once again their fates have been entwined and they both move forward together.


**This is my first Bleach story, and although the idea has been in my ming for quite a while, I haven't gotten time to sit down and write it until now. It focuses on the development of Ichigo's and Rukia's relationship over a course of time. **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading the first chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it - and I really loved writing it.**

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**Prologue: Moving Forward**

_Mistakes, when dealt with improperly, have a habit of returning. Whether it is these ghosts of our past or carelessness, both can have a tremendous effect on our choices. Sometimes being as unpleasant as to cause a catastrophic ripple effect, one that forever continues to echo throughout time. However, we cannot alter our fate until we commit ourselves to a certain decision. On a few occasions mistakes occur while making choices and their ripples are much more massive and powerful than one that a choice or mistake could create independently. Weaving their way through time these ripples affect and touch many people altering the course of their fates._

_But, what is fate? The question that all strive to answer is one that reveals the truth and reality behind our existence; our purpose in life. Some firmly believe that our fate is predetermined; that a path is set out at birth, a path that we must and will inevitably be swept along. Others maintain that our fate is only as good as the choices and mistakes we commit. Whichever it maybe, nobody knows, or so it is thought. In the past however, there have been a few exceptions to this universal law, there have been a few who have uncovered the veiled path that awaits them... And they, at a great risk and sacrifice to themselves and the ones precious to them have desperately attempted, either for their own selfish desires or disclosed reasons to alter their future and change what will occur as time weaves its way through the fabric of space._

_On a few of these instances, conflicts arose and plunged the Soul Society into what felt like eternal darkness, chaos and turmoil. During this era know referred to as the era of the 'Great War' many lives were touched. Soul Reapers, Arrancars and Vaizards alike were slaughtered, although many of us found our place in life. It was during this time that I was born; born amidst all the blood and violence. Watching as my comrades fell one by one as I helplessly could do nothing more than mourn their deaths along with those left standing on the blood drenched battlefield of Karakura Town...._

_It is only now that the most renown historians among the Soul Society able to trace back the resounding wars to a few mistakes that occurred during the past two centuries. Only now are they uncovering the mistakes that spawned massive ripples that continue to resonate to this day. Few of us, even those back while those errors were made, knew the truth behind these events. One man while searching for the power to protect those close to him stumbled upon these mistakes and witnessed the wars unfold. My father had discovered the secret; the one behind the wars and conflicts and he as a last resort to protect those he cherished began his decent into darkness. Leaving me behind at the ripe age of twenty years he ambushed the war from within. The Soul Society unknowing of his reasons for betrayal waged war once again with my father and his companions. Finally, my father died, a death befitting a hero; his heroics a legend. He is the great savior of the Spirit Wars._

_Nobody alive today knows those events but me. But if one thing is certain those wars brought about change. And as that era ended it spawned a new age, the one I reside within currently. An age of peace and prosperity, and for that I have my father to thank._

_Thank you, Ichigo Kurosaki_

_Kaien Shiba Kurosaki_

A dim silhouette set an engraved pen on a well furnished, mahogany table. His messy, spiked hair was well camouflaged in the dim light. However, his warm, brilliant, amber eyes glistened in the darkness. As he abruptly stood up, it was revealed that he possessed a tall slender figure. Apparently infuriated, his fist crashed down on the table leaving debris in its place. The paper and pen were buried under the remains of the table. Still angered the silhouette strode away from the mess and paced furiously out the abnormally large door.

The room remained silent except for the ticking of the magnificently crafted grandfather clock, placed in a brighter part of the room. It appeared to simply be there as a decorative piece for the sounds it produced, the ticking and chiming, were extremely erratic and seemed to follow no specific pace. However, the title of a decoration wasn't very fitting because the clock was carved and dented in many places, almost as if the clock was a punching bag. Slowly, footsteps were heard directly outside the room and the creaking of the door could be distinctly heard. And soon enough, a pale figure emerged through the door, the dim light accentuating his face making it appear ghastly.

The figure patiently scanned the room and immediately noticed the demolished table. He paced over with a large stride for he had crossed the room in under two seconds. Glancing at the fragments of the once beautiful desk the figures' look of confusion became appalled. As to why anyone would inflict such damage to a wonderful piece of furniture was beyond him. Carefully, but with ease he removed the pieces that lay askew the floor revealing the pen and inked piece of paper. Folding the paper he tucked it into the front of his haori and gazed intently on the pen. He watched it leak ink for a while and then nodded as if the pen had answered a question. Ripping his gaze away from it, he strode calmly out of the room, closing the door behind him confiding the room total darkness.

The outer passages were presumably lit better as the pale man's features were more vivid. His face was translucent along with his eyes. He had jet black hair gelled tightly to his neck, giving him an air of utmost cleanliness. The haori he donned was opened at the front exposing a well toned chest. Multiple scars adorned his chest and likely the rest of his body forming a strange but complex pattern. Dimly aware of his surroundings the man's eyes wandered of into the distance, completely unfocussed.

Suddenly a sly smile graced his features as he realized that he was walking through a familiar district of Rukongai. Memories swam through his head, ones he cherished; memories of his childhood. The smile became more pronounced as he passed a certain house, his home. It was large and spacious, taking up a large portion of the ground. From the looks of it, nobody had lived there in a long while as vines had crawled all the way to the top of the house and the windows were shattered. However, despite its rundown appearance a person actually resided within the demolished house. Ichiro Abarai, the captain of the sixth division and the son of a great, war hero, Renji Abarai.

For a while Ichiro mused on his childhood, unaware of what awaited him at the cemetery. However, as he drew closer to the grim tombstones it was impossible to forget. His face became serious and his playfulness ceased. Tightening his jaw and clenching his fists he prepared himself for the storm that was drawing closer with every step of his.

A young man, though he was roughly 150 years old, sat at the foot of an ancient oak tree. He did not appear to notice that he was in a cemetery because his face was calm and collected. His amber eyes wandered off into space not viewing a specific object of interest. The wind ruffled his skikashou slightly and gently as if trying to wake him from a slumber. This did not go unnoticed and his eyes were intently locked on another nearby tree. A silent sigh escaped his lips as he closed his mouth only to reopen it. A single word resounded throughout the entire cemetery.

"Ichiro?" He questioned now glaring at the tree. Ichiro emerged from behind the tree. The man fixed his glare upon Ichiro now, piercing his generally stoic temperament. Nodding, Ichiro glanced nervously at his friend's death glare and sweat dropped. The man raised his eye questioning Ichiro's reaction but thought nothing more of it. Turning away the man glanced across the horizon, settling his eyes on the moon. Ichiro followed his friend's gaze, but he soon grew bored of staring at the moon and he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off.

"Ichiro, why are you here?"

"No particular reason..." Ichiro replied vaguely much to his friend's annoyance but quickly replied when he sensed the irritation rolling off him in waves. His response however, only seemed to further aggravate his friend for some strange reason. All he had said was: "Looking for you."

"Well, you shouldn't have. I don't need anyone looking out for me; I can take care of myself better than you'll ever know!" The man spat towards Ichiro, but his calmness hadn't yet faded. Despite that, the words still caused him to grimace and let out an almost inaudible sigh. Clearly he was unimpressed and hurt by that rude comeback from his friend even though he didn't mean it.

"Yeah, sorry... but I need to know that story - it's very important to me and you need to get this off your chest already!" To Ichiro's mild surprise, his friend obliged and began narrating the long tale of their ancestors...

* * *

Karakura Town was filled with chaos and ruin as the Winter War raged endlessly. Mangled bodies lay askew, as the defeated Shinigami and Arrancar alike sucked in their final shallow breaths. The scent of blood was fresh in the air from the numerous wounds the surviving warriors sustained. However, despite the bloodshed amidst, the remaining warriors charged forward towards their unknown fates.

Friendships were shattered as friends fought one another. The countless bonds forged, severed through the harsh words uttered.

"Gin!" Rangiku yelled as she clashed her sword against his, hoping to rekindle the bonds they once shared.

"Sorry Ran-chan," Gin's ever smiling face remained unchanged as he spoke," It's just better this way." He lunged forward striking Rangiku in the stomach. Blood flowed freely through the fresh wound inflicted upon her and her consciousness faded away. Before she collapsed into a crumpled heap she muttered something that sounded like 'Gin'.

All in all, both sides seemed to be intent upon eradicating the other - doing everything in their power to ensure that their enemy fell in battle.

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Rukia Kuchiki, however, was oblivious to the turmoil surrounding her as she leaped over the still bodies. Her eyes were frantically darting around scanning the Town for the familiar orange hair. Halting for a moment, she spotted her childhood nakama Renji Abarai, dealing the final blow to an Audjuchas level Arrancar. Cocking her head impatiently she waited for Renji to destroy the creature - which after he did turned to dust and blew away in the winter gust.

Renji, shunpoed over to Rukia, - sensing that something bad was going to happen.

"What's up Rukia?" Renji could barely conceal the excitement in his voice as he spoke - even if he was on the battlefield of the Winter War. If this mess - originally an attempt to retrieve Inoue Orihime - could be labeled as a war.

"RENJI," Rukia exclaimed, "I'm so glad you're alive" Her face lit up significantly as she saw that his injuries were only minor slashes and bruises. Renji followed her gaze but found no more conversation regarding his wounds and moved onto a more painful but pressing concern.

"Where's Ichigo?"

Rukia angled her face away from Renji's - breaking the eye contact. Her lower lip trembled slightly as tears began to cloud her violet irises. Renji looked on at the scene with utter disbelief but his expression softened.

"What happened?" He pressed on though his tone was considerably kinder and more sincere. Renji's arms reached out, tilting Rukia's head to face him. Rukia's emotions betrayed her as tears slid down her soft cheeks, staining the ground.

"I don't know..." Rukia admitted. Her feeble and miserable voice cut through Renji like daggers. A deep snarl emitted from his chest but before he could follow his growl with a speech Rukia began to speak again.

"We were separated by Tosen while we were making our way to The King's Sanctum. Ichigo told me to get myself away from the fight so that he wouldn't hurt me while he engaged Tosen. Only before the fight began... Komamura-taichou arrived in a cloud of dust and Ichigo escaped into Las Noches when I couldn't see him... I tried to search for his spiritual pressure but it's so faint that I can't detect its exact location... His reiatsu's stronger than what I'm sensing... I don't know... why?"

"Alright... let's go find the strawberry!" Renji yelled and sprinted away before Rukia could protest to the suggestion.

* * *

Ichigo Kurosaki lay - a crumpled heap of blood on the ground, his sword shattered on the ground beside him. Many spears protruded outwards from his back - almost successfully slicing him in half. The wound bled endlessly, staining the bleached halls of the King's sanctum. His lifeless eyes were directed towards the room in which the King's Key was held.

Aizen Sosuke wore an expression identical to his maniacal laughter as he walked in the direction Ichigo's head was tilted.

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At the gates of the King's sanctum Rukia gazed upon the fight between Tosen and Komamura. At that exact moment they saw Orihime, Ishida and Chad all greeting them. Recounting her original narration they all set out in to the confusingly laid out halls of the King's Sanctum.

And with each meter they ran Aizen grew closer to accomplishing his original goal.

"-Step-"

"-Step-"

"-Step-"

"Finally I am in possession of the King's Key," Aizen cried out in jubilant glee," with this power, I will become King of The Spirit Re-"

"BANKAI!! Hihio Zabimaru!!!" The elongated form of Zabimaru flew through the air as it surrounded the King's Key - the flexible sword a case for the miniscule, yet powerful box. Zabimaru returned to Renji rapidly as he caught the box of much plight in his hands.

Rukia was too preoccupied with Ichigo's limp figure as she approached him cautiously - her small frame trembling.

Clutching his kimono tightly, Rukia turned his mangled corpse over. Her face mingled with fury and grief - Ichigo's eyes were expressionless, lifeless.

"Noooooo!"

Rukia let out a shrill shriek of agony that many believed was beyond her capability - reflected in her eyes Ichigo's hollow expression.

As she screamed all the clashing of steel and kido blasting came to an abrupt halt, all coming to a mutual understanding.

Ichigo Kurosaki was dead...

Embracing Ichigo's body in her lap Rukia allowed endless tears to stain his face, cleansing the blood from his face. Slowly she placed his blood streaked head back on the hard earth and rounded on Aizen - a flaming thirst for revenge burning in her eyes.

"Tsugi no Mai," her lip curled over her teeth menacingly as she snarled," Hakuren!" A white ring appeared on the ground, dimly illuminating Aizen's gaunt face. A ring of ice shot up but Aizen had vanished before the attack took effect.

"Rukia," Ishida shouted, "WATCH OUT!"

But it was too quick a movement for Rukia to react. Aizen grabbed her head like a rag doll and charged a white cero.

"Good-Bye, Rukia" He said pleasantly.

* * *

Ichigo awoke to dark void only to be dragged out by two hands. He resurfaced, to be greeted by Zangetsu and his inner hollow, Shirosaki.

A slight frown curved his lips downwards.

"Why the hell am I here?" Ichigo said almost inaudibly, "Aren't I supposed to be dead?" He grimaced at the last word.

"Che," Shirosaki began after he noticed Ichigo's revulsion towards dying, "You're pathetic... Ain't he Oji-san? Ya really think I would let you die FOOL?!! I've told ya so many times before... It would be a problem for me if ya got yourself killed!" Shirosaki vented his apparent fury for Ichigo's faith in him, unconcerned as Zangetsu spoke to him.

"Ichigo... Shirosaki is correct, we won't let you die nor will your friends."

Zangetsu spoke and at that moment Shirosaki cued himself in.

"Yeah, KING!!! I'll lend you my power for a bit... Che, I hate this but I can't live in a world where you don't exist so..." Shirosaki extended his pale arm and Ichigo clasped in return.

"Thanks Ossan... Partner..." The hollow only smirked in response to Ichigo's heartfelt words.

The last thing he heard before he found himself lying on the cold, hard surface of Las Noches was Zangetsu's wise words

"Protect your precious ones."

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The cero discharged and Aizen smiled in surprise at the hollowfied Ichigo standing before him. His face was covered with an eerie mask, with horns protruding from the top. Through the mask his raspy breaths could be heard distinctly. A gleaming black sword was clenched firmly in his hands - ready to slit Aizen's throat.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, I thought I had succeeded in killing you...You are an interesting ryoka... One who is too stubborn for his own good!" Aizen sneered at Ichigo whom ignored his snide comment and glanced over his shoulder to stare at an undamaged Rukia.

"Did he hurt you?" Fury rang in his soft words.

"Ah... Idiot..." Rukia replied and Ichigo swiveled his head back to glare at Aizen.

However, before the fight began to brew... Ukitake and Kyouraku burst in through the door - two Espada falling victim to their zanpakt-os. Ichigo and his nakama turned in alarm at the eruption of noise.

Recovering quickly Ichigo regained himself a moment before he dodged a blasting kido from Aizen. Bracing himself Ichigo arched forward into a lunge - his body hurtling towards Aizen.

"Getsuga Tenshou!!" Ichigo released a spiraling wave of black reiatsu from the end of his zanpakt-o. The massive eruption that resulted in the collision of the blast and Kyoka Suigetsu, caused Ichigo's nakama and the two captains to fall back in alarm.

"I don't know what the hell you were talking about... but it seems to me as if you were planning to take the King's Key from that room over there," Ichigo's sleak sword pointed in the direction, where the King's Key stood hovering a few inches above the ground," but, you better get moving..."

As Ukitake and Kyouraku shunpoed over to the object Aizen began to chant the incantation for a powerful Hado spell but Ichigo intervened.

Sending a Getsuga Tenshou towards the ground separating the captains from the attack of Aizen's that followed. The ground where the blast hit splintered into many pieces of burnt marble that flew out in all directions - bombarding the Shinigami and Aizen both, with fragments of rocks, marble and other insignificant debris.

As the smoke cleared slowly figures could be seen recovering form the impact.

"Hpmh," Aizen said monotonously, "How annoying and pitifully pointless. Boy, you should know by now that if you desire to defeat me your power isn't enough on its own nor will a few rocks scratch me." An air of smugness replaced his monotony. He seemed to act superior; a god, as he intended to become.

"Aizen," Ichigo's voice was dark and menacing, "I never intended to kill you with that blast. All I wanted was to divert your attention from them." Ichigo eyed Ukitake who now had in his possession the King's Key. He shunpoed away from the scene, towards the door, motioning to leave the inner sanctum. Aizen distracted him however.

"Tell me Kurosaki... Why do you fight for them? Those whom will eventually abandon you in fear of your power as my Espada did to me. It intrigues me. Tell me why?" Ichigo's face was contorted in indecision and pain. But then, his face was a determined one.

An expression similar to the one that he wore on the day of Rukia's execution...

Kariya's defeat...

It was an expression of happiness and friendship. But most of all, love.

"I fight for them... because they are my friends... because I care for them... because I want to... But mostly because they were there for me when nobody else was." Ichigo's eyes were ablaze with renewed vigour.

"They are my nakama! And I'll protect them no matter what!"

* * *

Las Noches became veiled with smoke after a resounding crash echoed through the entire battlefield. Once again, the sounds of swords clashing stopped - all was silent. Everyone, Arracncars and Shinigami alike, gazed at what seemed to be the outcome of the Winter War. Slowly the smoke cleared and two figures stood with their backs to each other.

Simultaneously, both staggered forward from their wounds. Both were bleeding heavily, their breaths were coming in ragged and uneven. The one who was bespectacled teetered forward and began to fall. However, another figure - a caped figure - caught him and left silently.

Aizen had been recued by an unknown entity. Soon enough however, Ichigo also lost consciousness and began his descent towards the ground, only to be caught by none other than Rukia Kuchiki. And it that instant it was chaos, the Arrancars all struggling to leave the battle and follow their master, the Shinigami chasing after them.

Rukia Kuchiki couldn't care less; she was too busy tearing in a countenance of relief and happiness that Ichigo was alive. Although she was still worried about his many other wounds, she couldn't help but feel ease spread through her.

As Rukia walked while Unohana helped her carry Ichigo Rukia looked into the sky. She would never admit it but she truly loved him and as she gazed into the horizon of her future, she wanted him to be there. Despite the fact that Aizen was alive, Rukia wanted him to face the hurdles and obstacles with her.

She wanted them to walk forward together as equals.

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**Okay... I hope you liked it and please review. The next chapter should be up in a week or so because Spring Break is almost here. **


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